Emotions, Amplified
by SpecialParanoia
Summary: Amplification' drabbles. Emotional involvement affects the decision making process no matter who you are.
1. Hotch

**A/N:** I'd like to think there was more going on in everyone's minds during 'Amplification' than depicted. The team's reactions to Reid's illness was not only disappointing, but a little appalling considering how much Reid hurt/comfort goes on in the show, so I just had to whip up this little Hotch drabble to make myself feel a little better.

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine- which, considering the quality of this little ditty, is probably a good thing.

* * *

"**His best chance is inside."**

_Morgan will never forgive me for this._

From the look on his agent's face, that had been almost as hard to hear as it was for Hotch to say, but the lack of argument from the undeniably volatile Derek Morgan went a long way to reassuring the team leader that he was right, it was the most logical choice- never mind that it hurt. That it sounded callous even to his own ears. That the anger and betrayal he saw directed at him would likely never fade completely.

That it was _Reid_ in that house, exposed to an as yet incurable strain of anthrax.

_Don't look at me like that, Morgan. Like I'm sacrificing Reid without a second thought. For all you've done to protect the kid all these years, you couldn't possibly understand that it isn't the FBI Agent, the boss, the stoic by-the-books part of me that made this decision. It should have been, and for all anyone will know it was, but no. How can I explain that it is really the father in me, the mentor and friend, that trusts our eccentric young genius to pull the rabbit out of the hat and save the day more than anyone else on this case? That __**he **__took priority and it's only through a convenient and warped stroke of luck it works in our favor? Even if I could find the right words, there are too many ears around. Can't risk getting pulled for being too 'emotionally involved'. Reid'll find the antidote, solve the case, and save the world… just like always. _

The rest of their conversation was brief, rushed, the sense of urgency hanging over them kicked up a few notches.

_You made the right decision._

His heart sank a little when Reid refused the suit, but he had a point- it wouldn't have done any good. He was already infected.

_Morgan will never forgive me for this._

…_I can't really blame him. _

_

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_

**A/N:**__Not the best, but I'd like to think this was Fearless Leader's thought process. Got an idea for a Garcia drabble_, _so who knows? This may become a series... if anyone would like.

And just in case anyone's been wondering, (which I doubt, but you never know)- I really am working on the 'Heroes' sequel, as well as a couple other things, but RL has been kicking my behind pretty badly in every way possible, so they've had to take the wayside for a while. I'll try to get back in a groove in the coming week.


	2. Garcia

**A/N:** I'll admit- I may have watched this episode more than once. This scene stuck in my head every time; I couldn't figure out why Garcia sounded like she hadn't just spoken to Reid about _two minutes_ ago. Then, this came to me, and I felt a little silly.

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

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"**Well, you got me and Garcia." **

"**Hey, Reid."**

Garcia mentally congratulated herself- it wasn't her usual perky greeting, but she'd managed to keep most of the tremors out of her voice. Not all, of course. Not with Reid… _there_. In that house. Infected with _anthrax_, of all things. But it only shook a little, and the tears clogging her throat hadn't choked her up completely. Morgan wouldn't give it a second thought; their friend was about to become very, _very_ sick, so naturally his baby girl would be a little upset.

Naturally.

Because who would guess that it was anything else? That she'd only just hung up with her favorite Junior G-Man minutes before? That he'd called her, his own voice shaking ever-so-slightly with fear and stress, asking a favor of the Oracle of Quantico that had the technical analyst looking for a corner she could hide in and cry? That she'd had to sit there quietly and listen to him tearfully say goodbye to his mother- jus_t 'in case'?_

Who would guess that?

Hopefully, not Morgan. She wanted like hell to just blurt it out, let it go, make her chocolate sculpted god of thunder talk some sense into their boy before that big ol' brain of his went to darker, uglier places while she screamed and cried and railed at the world for being so unfair. What _she_ wanted, however, didn't matter. What mattered was Reid, and anything she could do for him while he was where he was. If that meant swallowing her own pain, keeping secrets from Derek, putting on a false face and pretending things were as normal as they could be in this situation then she'd do it and do it right.

_Sorry, handsome, but the last thing our sweet little genius would want is me blabbing his very personal business to __**you.**__ Let's face it- you'd get angry. And he'd get all embarrassed; cute as it is when he turns so pink and stutters that painfully adorable stammer of his, I don't think he'd appreciate it all that much. This is between him and him mom- I just happened to get in the middle. _

Reid was coughing into his phone, now, obviously trying to muffle it as best he could while rushing through a quick profile of the lab nearly breathless. Garcia winced and poised her fingers over the keyboard, ready and raring to go.

_Hang on, baby. Mama's here and she's gonna' do whatever it takes. Just hang on…_

_

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_

**A/N:** Still not my best work, but better than the previous drabble. Emily, next. Don't have many more ideas, so suggestions are welcome... Assuming anyone's reading. ;)

Thanks to those that reviewed- much appreciated!


	3. Emily

**A/N:** As promised, here's Emily. I did the best I could, but she's a tough cookie. Not sure if it really sounds like her.

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

"**It's pretty bad."**

"**Emily…"** Dave quickly interjected, the warning behind the tone obvious.

_Oh please, Rossi, we already had this conversation. No, I don't like it- not one damn bit, let me tell you- but I'm not stupid. I get that causing a panic would be counter-productive, get a lot of people "sick", give __**us**__ a whole heap of trouble, blah blah blah. I still think it's better to tell the truth, and God knows I don't mind toeing that Company Line you're suddenly so anal about every now and then, but do you really think I'm going to jeopardize __**my**__ standing on this case now that Reid's been infected? After handing myself over to that… that… religious__** nutjob**__ in Colorado so Reid wouldn't have to take __**another**__ beating from __**another**__ zealot psycho, you really think I would risk getting myself into trouble? Risk getting myself kicked off the case when my friend's life is on the line- again? _

_Think again, sir. _

_Even if I have to do something I've always believed is wrong- if I have to lie to a woman who, let's be honest, has every right to be concerned- so that I can actually be doing something useful for Reid then you're damn right I'm going to do it. _

_Gotta' stick to protocol, right?_

And so Emily lied. Toxic mold, she said. _Good one. _Nothing to worry about._ We hope._ She could almost hear Rossi's internal sigh of relief and it was all she could do not to shake her head at him. As it was, it took a lot of restraint to hold back until the neighbor was out of earshot before uttering a meaningful **"Don't 'Emily' me"**.

_Let's just get this bastard and make sure no one else gets hurt. I don't want everything I just said to become a lie…_


	4. Rossi

**A/N:** I was trying to get of these up a day, but clearly failed yesterday. Thing is, I had started it with every intention of getting it up before bed last night, then realized I wanted to do this one first then tie all those previous together a bit in the next to come. (Make any sense?) Basically, I figured Rossi should have a say before I go any further. now if only I'd thought of this before I posted Emily's... but oh well.

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

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"**Screw protocol, Reid's in trouble!"**

It took a lot to surprise David Rossi, but he found himself a little taken aback by Emily's emphatic protest. He knew as well as anyone how much she cared for the brilliant young man- especially after the events in Colorado- even if she didn't quite wear it on her sleeve like the others, so it came as a surprise to him that the practical, logical, calm Emily Prentiss could even think of tossing aside the rules at a time like this.

'_Screw protocol'? She can't be serious…? Just how much good do you think you're going to do the kid if you get yourself in trouble and force me to reprimand you? I'd have to tell Hotch- there's no way around it, you know that. It would get back to him no matter what. Sure, these are professionals, but that doesn't mean they won't panic like every other sane human being when they hear the word 'anthrax'. You tell them and we'll have to delegate you to the sidelines for knowingly defying a direct order. Just what do you think you're going to do for Reid, there?_

_We're all worried about him, kiddo, but maybe you should choose to be angry, instead. It's more productive. That's what I'm doing- I'm pissed as hell at this Dr. Nichols. He did a stupid, careless, __**appalling **__thing by having any part in hurting so many innocent people- and it's working. When I'm pissed, I'm more aggressive in my work. Aggressive is good. Aggressive gets things done, and gets them done faster. _

_Aggressive will give us the partner __**and**__ the antidote, and that will give us Reid. _

_Not his body, not a funeral, not a mother's grief and some complex lie to explain away the cause of death, but our very own human computer alive and breathing and spouting off statistics faster than I can come up with my own damn Social Security number. _

_Think about it. Don't be stupid- I know damn well you're not. __Let's just get this bastard the right way and make sure no one else gets sick. No one has to know we're doing it all for Reid._

_

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_

**A/N:** I've always felt that when it came to focus on the job and compartmentalizing it, Emily and Dave share a similar line of thinking. Couldn't help but pounce on this idea and try to illustrate their parallels.


	5. Reid

**A/N:** My sincerest apologies for the wait- if indeed anyone is still following this little ditty. Explanations will be made at the end of the chapter for anyone curious. If you don't care, go ahead and skip the second author's note.

This one's quite a bit longer, and I attempted to reference previous chapters as well, so hopefully I've made up for the wait?

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

"**I gotta' go."** Reid noticed Dr. Kimura enter the small 'lab' with a couple others and gratefully hung up with Garcia before he started blubbering into his cell phone. He'd nearly lost it there a couple times, throat clenching painfully on the words he so desperately needed his mother to hear, but he wouldn't have been able to swallow down the tears any longer were it not for such a timely interruption.

"**You look nice," **he said by way of greeting, trying to start out on a positive note by lightening the mood a little. Kimura laughed politely but it was clear she could see right through the false smile he'd plastered on. She wasted no time getting down to business- which, considering the situation, was certainly to be expected- but what did surprise Reid was not only the Doctor's genuine concern for his well being, but that she was doing nothing to hide it. The woman hardly knew him, had only met him that day, and yet the way she was looking at him… somehow, the worry shining in her deep brown eyes was different than it had been for the others infected in the hospital. While a small part of him appreciated such attention, the last thing he wanted was to become the priority when there were four others in far worse condition than he.

Were it coming from Morgan, he could understand it. The older agent had taken it upon himself to provide a one-man protection detail for the young genius from his first day in the BAU, he was a good friend, and, if you're being completely honest, not entirely stable when it came to his emotions. When Derek Morgan felt something, he felt it intensely and with every fiber of his being. Anger, sadness, guilt, fear- Reid would have to guess that at that very moment his friend was struggling against all of them along with a heaping side of helplessness. There was no doubt that, in his mind, he'd not only failed to protect his young colleague, but he couldn't even be there with him, help him search, make him feel better. For such a take-charge, rush-into-action guy it had to be frustrating as hell to have to sit on the sidelines.

_I actually feel bad for everyone that has to deal with Morgan, right now, and I'm the one infected with __**anthrax**__. If I make it out of this alive, maybe he and I can sit down and have a talk about his anger issues… _

…_or maybe not. No sense making it through this only to commit suicide. _

Hoping to keep everyone focused on the true task at hand instead of himself, Reid tried to dismiss the doctor's unusual concern with a simple but hopefully believable **"I feel fine". ** It sounded convincing enough to his own ears, but clearly not convincing enough for Dr. Kimura. To her credit, she didn't so much as blink at the obvious lie and proved her own decent acting abilities by forging ahead with an offer of painkillers later down the line to keep him "comfortable". In retrospect, she had been understanding and kind enough that a firm but polite 'no, thank you' would have been enough. Instead, a brief flash of panic had him biting out a rather harsh dismissal that actually made her flinch a little.

_Whoops. Speaking of over-reacting… she's just trying to help, do her job. Just calm down and help her out instead of biting her head off. It's bad enough you were so blunt with Hotch, earlier. _

"_**Don't bother, it won't do me any good, I'm already infected."**__ So much for being a genius; that was one of the stupidest things you've done all day- inhaling a deadly bioagent, included. He was clearly worried, and you practically threw it back in his face. He may not say as much, but you know better than anyone how protective Hotch is of the team, whether the cause is work related or not. As the boss he feels responsible for us, for our well-being- which technically he is- but he's always made it clear he takes that responsibility far beyond the duties of Unit Chief. _

_Becoming a dad didn't really didn't help, either. _

_Or working with Morgan and his rampant hero-complex._

_Or my own penchant for being a hostage. Or held at gunpoint. Or kidnapped. Or blown up. Or beaten and drugged and… well, all the trouble I seem to get into. _

_Yeah, definitely be a little nicer to Hotch next time you talk to him. An apology wouldn't hurt, either…_

_For now, maybe you should focus that genius brain of yours on the nice doctor you just snapped at for no good reason. Oops. Again. Pay attention, Reid!_

Kimura was eyeing him warily, clearly hesitant to provoke any further outbursts, but she gamely plowed ahead and asked what to do to help, clearly willing to chalk his strange behavior up to being sick and stubborn.

_This woman gives you entirely too much credit. Panic? Yes, absolutely. Got plenty of that, if we're being honest- but sorry, it's not the proud, too-tough-to-admit-weakness, macho FBI Agent kind of panic you think. More like the I-want-to-live-to-receive-my-five-year-chip-please, kind. Much more respectable… _

_Damnit, Reid, what happened to focus? Pay attention, already! Take a deep breath,- when did __**that**__ get so hard?- do your job, and remember to add Dr. Kimura to your list of apologies._

_Cure… cure… where would he hide it? Former government employee, obviously a little paranoid- the profile practically writes itself. _

To his surprise, it also practically explained itself- he was already telling her that it would likely be hidden, to look for something innocuous without so much as a second thought for what he was saying. It was a relief to know that even though his thoughts were wandering every which way without his permission, he could still fall back on what he did well so easily. Now, if only his phone would stop ringing and let him do something useful…

_Morgan. Figures. Checking up on me? I'm surprised it took you this long… _

"**Well, you got me and Garcia." **Reid felt another wave of panic surge through his insides. _Garcia? No, no, please not Garcia. Not after… I only __**just**__ hung up with her! Please tell me she didn't-_

"**Hey, Reid."** The panic ebbed slightly. _Oh, thank God._ It wasn't chipper by any stretch of the imagination, and it was no 'witty Garcia greeting', but it was a good try and mercifully free of tears and for that, Reid could have kissed her.

_Whoa- where did __**that**__ come from? _

His fraying nerves settled just a little more as Morgan got down to business, laying out what the team had come up with and asking for a bit more insight from the BAU genius. Normalcy was key. It was good. It kept his brain geared to the task at hand… except, his brain wasn't being much help. Hadn't he already told them everything he could? _Apparently not._

"**Come on now, kid, I know you're not thinking straight,"** _Ha! You have no idea, _**"but the Reid I know wouldn't give up."**_ A guilt trip? Really? That seems pretty unfair, considering the circumstances. What exactly have __**you**__ been doing out there all this time- besides playing phone tag and terrorizing the nice hazmat people? Give me a break, I have __**anthrax**__. My genius brain is in the process of turning into Jell-O… wow, Jell-O actually sounds really good right now… and my thoughts are all over the place like with the Jell-O- cherry, definitely- and I think there might be an elephant sitting on my chest because it's starting to get a little hard to breathe and did I mention I have __**anthrax**__? And why is it so hot in here, anyway?_

Reid bit back a sigh and tried to coral his scattered thoughts.

_Fine. Profile. You can do this- not that you have much choice. You __**are**__ in the best position to get into this guy's head, Jell-O brains and lack of oxygen aside. Man, __**why**__ do I keep thinking of-_

_No, concentrate! The partner. Need to find who Dr. Nichols was working with. The question is how…?_

Blinking rapidly in an attempt to regain his focus, Spencer sucked in as deep a breath as he could muster and switched into autopilot. It felt a little pointless and somewhat wasteful to be going over everything again, starting from scratch, but once he got on a roll he found that answers were indeed beginning to form. Things he'd overlooked before stood out starkly in the sterile white room- photos, binders, papers… the thesis. _Eureka!_

Between he, Morgan, and Garcia they were able to spitball ideas, work up a theory, search it out, and produce a name and address within minutes. It was the most productive he'd felt in hours, which frankly wasn't saying much.

"**Kid, you did real good- now get the hell outta' there." **_If only. Not going to do me much good being in the hospital if we don't find the cure. I may not be of much use, but an extra set of eyes certainly can't hurt._

"**Dr. Reid,"** Kimura called out to him as she hurried over looking cautiously hopeful as she held up a plastic bag. **"You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn't suspect. What about Nichols' inhaler?" **Reid blinked and felt his eyes grow wide.

_Damn._

_I never would have thought of that…_

_You heard the man- let's get the hell out of here. _

_

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_

**A/N:** So... As a reader, I know how frustrating it is to get caught up in a multi-chapter piece only to suddenly have the author seemingly fall off the face of the earth. Now, I'm certainly not going to flatter myself by thinking anyone's really hanging on my every word or anything, ;) I'm just saying. Thing is, my health has been rather in flux as of late. Some rather serious and long term issues have cropped up despite my best efforts, and between these problems and the treatments I've been pretty worn down.

However, I've been doing my damnedest to be sure I work a little on this every day, and I've already got the plots for three more worked up- they just need to be written. If you guys are still reading, I'll still be posting. Just continue being patient, and I'll continue serving up the angst.

Your patience and kind words are much appreciated. Many thanks to all who have reviewed so far.


	6. Morgan

**A/N:** Goodness! Been a long enough wait, hasn't it? Many, many thanks for all the lovely reviews and well-wishes, last chapter! You've no idea how much it meant to me to read all those kind words. Still struggling to get issues under control, still rather tired, but things may be looking up. In the meantime, I'm going to keep on doing my best to get these chapters out there for you guys, but the waits may continue to be long.

I really appreciate the patience and thank you once again to all those who are sticking with me. Hope this one doesn't disappoint!

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

"**I'm sorry."**

Morgan felt his eyes go wide as he took in the situation before him: Reid, locked behind the lab door. Air blasting. Broken vial on the floor.

…white powder.

White powder spilled from the broken vial on the floor in the room Reid locked himself in with the air blasting through the vent-

_Son of a bitch._

Reid had been exposed. There was no doubt he'd breathed it in. No doubt he'd just infected himself with an advanced strain of anthrax. No doubt he was about to get very, _very_ sick- and there was nothing Morgan could do about it.

_I'm gonna' kill him._ _I swear to God- if he lives through this, I'll kill him myself. _

There were things he should be doing, people he should be calling, protocols to follow, but for the life of him he couldn't seem to make himself do it. For the first time that he could remember, rush-into-action, take-charge, act-first-ask-questions-later Derek Morgan was simply… frozen. His mind was a blank. All those things he _should_ be doing were merely thoughts, ideas just out of reach floating along the peripherals of his consciousness. For the life of him, he couldn't focus on anything but Reid and the look in his eyes.

It wasn't the fear or anxiety he saw in his best friend that kept him rooted in place, but rather the guilt. The self-condemnation. He'd been entirely sincere when he'd said he was sorry, and even through the haze of shock Morgan knew damn well just what he was really apologizing for.

_You stupid, reckless, self-sacrificing idiot. What the hell were you thinking? No, I know what you were thinking. You saw Nichols was hurt, and instead of following protocol- instead of doing what you've been __**trained**__ to do in these situations to keep __**yourself**__ safe and alive- you rushed in to check on the guy that possibly made a deadly bioweapon and infected a park full of innocent people. God dammit, kid- do you have a death wish, or something? What have you done to piss Karma off so much?_

_Don't you get it, yet? Don't you see what it does to us when you're __**here**__? When you get yourself kidnapped and blown up and beaten and knocking on death's door- __**again?**__ I know you're not sorry for putting us in this position again, having to watch you suffer once more because of the job. Not like that. You're sorry because you screwed up and now you're not going to be able to help the team. You're sorry because we're going to worry about you and you don't want us to lose focus on the case. _

_God damn it all, kid- you're sorry for making __**our**__ job harder. I don't know whether I want to cry or bust through this door so I can shake some sense into you. _

_Okay, maybe I won't cry. Did that once before. Back in Georgia. _

_Ever notice you have that effect on people? 'Cause JJ and I sure as hell weren't the only ones doing our damnedest not to blubber all over you in that freezing cold cemetery, and I guarantee you this time will be no different. _

_Can't exactly break down the door either, I guess, can I? That would kinda' defeat the purpose, wouldn't it- purposely toss aside safety regs and expose __**myself**__ so I can yell at you for doing the same thing? At least then you wouldn't be alone, though…_

Morgan heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes in an effort to tear his gaze from Reid's. It was that _look_ he was giving him- utterly captivating in the depths of its fear and sadness- that kept the well-trained FBI agent rooted to the spot. He couldn't possibly think straight, couldn't move, couldn't do his job when looking into those wide brown eyes. Loath though he was to turn away and leave the kid even more alone that he already was, he knew he couldn't be of any help if he didn't leave now.

Morgan's brain was finally beginning to reboot and process the situation properly. As his concentration returned, training kicked in and he reached for his cell phone, taking one last look at his friend while his finger hovered over the keypad.

"We're gonna' take care of this, kid," he vowed, schooling his face to reflect nothing but calm and reassurance. "Don't worry about a thing, you understand me? We're gonna' take care of you." Reid nodded, swallowing visibly, and took a step back from the glass door in an effort to give Morgan 'space' to go do what needed to be done. The small gesture touched him deeply, and Derek had to turn away quickly, dialing Hotch's number on autopilot as the insane urge to cry washed over him once more.

_You're gonna' be fine, kid. We'll get you through this- I promise. We're gonna' get you out of there and back home safe and sound-_

_And then, I'm gonna' kill you. _


	7. JJ

**A/N:** Long time, no see. I know it's been a while, (better late than never?), but I've finally given JJ her say.

Many thanks again to everyone for the kind words and, most importantly, your patience. I'm afraid this one's not really up to par, but I had a hard time getting it done. It's the right idea, but the voice really gave me issues. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much. ;)

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

"**This thing killed the first three victims within hours, JJ-"**

"**Garcia, stop. Please? I can't think about it that way. He took Cipro , he's got help, he's- he's gonna' be fine." **JJ cut off the technical analyst, trying and failing not to look into those pleading bespectacled eyes when she knew her own held nothing but fear.

'_It's bad enough I'm not even allowed to contact Will, at least I know Reid's with people that can help him. God only knows where my Henry is… Reid- _Spence- _our friend, might be infected but at least he's getting care. Being treated. _

_'Like the other twenty-one that died anyway-_

'_No. _

'_No, you know what? Damn him, anyway. __**"…including a baby." "Seven months." "Yeah, but that was a curable strain. This thing's entirely different." **__As if he honestly forgot about his own Godson.'_ JJ blinked, unsure where and how that had come from. It was a scary and sobering thought, and it didn't stop there.

'_Did he? This _is_ Reid. When he focuses on a problem, everything else tends to get put on the wayside... Or is he just callous enough to say those things to a new mother without a second thought?'_

Callous? Where was all this coming from? It sickened her that this kind of anger toward someone she loved could come so easily, and she had to work hard to keep her expression neutral as she half-listened to Garcia voice her fears, choosing to blame it on her own helplessness.

Every fact and statistic and detail they gathered only served as a reminder that none of them could do anything to help. Nothing that mattered. Nothing _she_ could do for her potentially dying friend or her defenseless baby but stare at computers and files and hope the puzzle pieces put themselves together in time.

'_Except…'_

"**If you could do… anything, to keep your family safe, even if it meant breaking procedure, would you?"**

"**Yes. What procedure?"** Penelope didn't even blink. No hesitation, no thinking, just yes. It was all the answer she needed.

"**Nevermind." **she smiled, pretending to focus again on the folder in her hand.

'_Screw protocol, procedure, right and wrong and "unfair advantages" and whatever else you want to call it. We're here to save innocent people- doesn't my baby count? _

'_Let's face it- Reid can take care of himself. He always does. He'll probably find the cure, find the partner, and walk out of that house on his own two feet; knowing Spence, it'll take all the tough, trained army guys they have at the house to strap him down to that stretcher. _

'_The stupid, stubborn genius..._

'_He'll help himself, all right. Like it or not, there's nothing you can do for him except your job. And you're doing it. But as a mother…? You have one job, and one job only. Make the damn call and if Hotch finds out, you'll deal with it. He's a parent, too. _

'_Who was it that said "It is better to ask forgiveness than permission"?'_

JJ smiled a little.

'_I bet Spence would know…'_

_

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_

**A/N:** So, dear readers, now the question remains- would you like me to continue this humble little fic, or let it be now that everyone's had their moment? I know too much will be overkill, but there's also more fodder for ideas. I leave it up to you.

Once more, many thanks for your patience and loyalty. Makes a writer feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


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